It’s always been a dirty little secret of mine that I love British Vogue almost as much as its chicer Parisian counterpart. It’s a simple matter; I relish the total experience of a magazine, and while Paris equals French, it’s only a picture-book to me. Yet, the reason I remain such a devoted viewer of the Parisian edition is the photography. In few words, the magazine not only communicates trends, but dictates their inception.
